“He told me about all of his companies and charity work—”
“Charity work?” Brayden snorted.
“—and then he asked about me, and I told him about the internship I applied for at the Northwestern Museum of Natural History, and he seemed really interested that I wanted to become a curator one day.”
Brayden faked a yawn. “Yes, I’m sure the king of the underground scene was just fascinated by that. Did you tell your hot older man about all your happy childhood memories and teenage acne, too? Or maybe you mentioned the dry spell you’ve had for the past few months, because that’s the kind of thing he’d really want to know about.”
I grabbed the cushion from behind me and whacked him in the head with it.
“Aw, don’t be sad he only wants you for your body—” Brayden said, but before I could hit him again, he put his hands up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Salvatore Wolfe doesn’t want you only for your body.”
“Thank you.”
“He also wants you for that pretty face and your mouth.”
“Brayden.” I shook my head and groaned. “Is that all you think about? Sex?”
“Sex is all any guy thinks about. It’s a fact. Embrace it. In fact, maybe you should embrace it with—”
“Salvatore,” I finished for him, and chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. If that happens, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I better fucking be, or I’ll hold these damn feta things hostage,” he said, grabbing another pastry and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. When he swallowed, he dusted his hands off and reached for the two DVDs lying on the coffee table. “Now that we’ve established you’re not entirely a pussy, which is it gonna be: Blade Runner or Die Hard?”
The insistent pounding in my head increased with every look, smile, and touch shared between the two men on the couch in the center of what I assumed was a living room.
I recognized the young man with Jesse the second I saw him: Brayden Fairchild. He had been the one to escort Jesse to the den and pay his entry fee, and as I stood in amongst the thick scrub and trees that bordered the back of the large house, I watched the two of them as they interacted.
It would be clear to any onlooker that the two of them were close. Jesse’s body language expressed his level of comfort as he sat angled toward Brayden with a smile on his face. And the easy way he conversed with him made my hands twitch.
I studied the way Jesse moved as he talked to the boy opposite him, and really, that was what they were in my world: boys playing among men. As he talked, his hands moved expressively through the air. The long line of his throat tempted me in ways I knew weren’t healthy, but then again, every second I stood outside this house, I knew I was falling further into a hole I would soon be unable to climb free of. One into which I would, eventually, drag Jesse.
I knew myself. I knew who I was under the suits. Under the polish. I had known from an early age that there was darkness in me. Something that wasn’t quite like everyone else. And over the years I had been careful to keep it concealed—until him.
Now here I was, back in the shadows, back in the darkness I was so familiar with as the rush of danger made my cock hard, and the thrill of getting closer to one who was so unsuspecting made the hunt that much more arousing.
As a loud burst of laughter came from inside the house, I saw Jesse lean over and push Brayden in the arm, and as his hands made contact with Brayden’s firm bicep, my hands clenched into fists. I hated him touching Brayden, hated the contact between him and another who wasn’t me, and as the jealousy ripped through me and had me taking a step forward, I knew I had to rein it in. An important part of the hunt was patience, and thus far I had been able to keep mine, and I would be damned if some muscled-up jock made me lose ground with my lamb.
Backing away from the house, I made sure to tread carefully, and vowed that from here on out, every decision Jesse made, though he would think it was his own, would be mine.
Every smile. Every breath. Every thought running through his pretty head. They would be for me. Because of me. Only for me.
Once I hit the shoulder of the road, I shoved my hands into the pockets of my black hoodie and hurried back to where I’d parked the Range Rover. I climbed inside, and once there, I shoved back the hood from my head. It was so dark up here when the sun finally relinquished its hold and gave in to the night. No stars could be seen with the large pines that grew all around, and as I reached across to the papers on my passenger seat, I flicked on the interior light.